


Apologize

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-24
Updated: 2009-08-24
Packaged: 2019-01-19 14:24:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12412020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: a-pol-o-gize: express regret for something that one has done wrong.





	Apologize

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

**A/N:** **A bit inconclusive, but I can't be bothered to mess around with it. This was going to be a chaptered Lily/James story but I changed my mind, and now I'm debating between keeping it a one-shot or extending it into a drabble collection with different characters and different apologies. Suggestions? Comments? Critiques? Thank you.**

**Apologize**

He apologized to her on the eighth day of summer.

Lily knows, because it was her first Saturday off of work – bloody parents and their “even crazy people who can just wave sticks and make money appear should work because it teaches valuable life lessons” speech – and she finally got to sleep in.

Getting out of bed at the fabulous time of ten-thirty – about three and a half hours later than she normally had to wake up – Lily walked downstairs feeling exceptionally happy. Wearing a radiant smile and her favorite pajamas – white shorts and a Holyhead Harpies shirt she had nicked from Dorcas months ago – she pranced into the kitchen.

…and promptly halted in the doorway with a terrified expression on her face.

James Potter – fellow Gryffindor, prankster, archenemy of Severus Snape, most horrible bloke to ever walk the planet – was sitting at her kitchen table. Not even just that: he was sitting in _her_ chair, drinking from _her_ favorite green and white polka dotted mug, and eating the banana and chocolate chip pancakes made by _her_ mother.

Lily’s first thought was that she was dreaming; however, she was forced to face reality when she failed the classic does-the-pinch-hurt test. Her second thought was that her hair was in tangles, her shirt was too small, and she was showing a bloke she despised more leg than she had shown her last boyfriend.

So, naturally, at the precise moment when Lily was fretting over her choice of sleeping attire and debating running upstairs to possibly throw herself out of her bedroom window to escape this bloody nightmare, her mother decided to finally notice her.

“Lily!” she exclaimed with a bright smile. Her long red hair was pulled back from her face in a messy bun and she was wearing a sunny yellow apron. “I’m so glad you’re finally awake, dear.”

James eyes swiveled quickly to meet hers. His – she was not startled to find – were twinkling with the same mischievous glint that usually followed a good prank. Which, she supposed, was exactly what this must be to him: another _wonderful_ prank for him  
to brag to all his mates and the members of his fan club about.

She was equally unsurprised to notice that he was lounging at her kitchen table like it was _his_ kitchen table, wearing his usual confident grin and surprisingly accurate – if a bit plain – Muggle clothing.

“Hullo, Lily,” he greeted smugly. “I love your pajamas.” He was eyeing the exposed stretch of stomach between her too-small shirt and shorts a little too appreciatively. She blushed to the roots of her hair and self-consciously attempted to tug her shirt down further.

Instead of responding to him, however, she focused her attention on her mother. “Mum! Why did you – what are you – what is he doing here?” she sputtered indignantly.

Mrs. Evans smiled affectionately at James – Lily swore her mother would have patted him on the head just then if not for how bizarre it would have looked – and replied, “It was just so sweet of him, honey; he was in the neighborhood, and he thought he’d drop by for a chat with you. When I told him you were still asleep – honestly, Lily, it’s practically afternoon – he seemed so upset that I offered him some breakfast while he waited,” she concluded, beaming as though she deserved a pat on the head.

Which she did not: in fact, she rather deserved a smack on the head instead.

Gritting her teeth, Lily stared at her mother incredulously. Beyond caring how rude she sounded, she retorted, “So, what, now you’re just letting strangers who claim they’re my mate into the house?”

Her mother flipped one last pancake onto an already towering stack – who did she expect to eat all those? – before glancing at her daughter quizzically. “But he is your mate,” she stated matter-of-factly, as though she would know.

Wonderful, Lily thought viciously, even her mother was charmed by James Potter. Shooting a hateful glare in said bloke’s direction, she snapped, “No, _he’s not_.”

Mrs. Evans eyes widened in complete surprise, before narrowing dangerously – Lily didn’t get her temper from no one. “That is a dreadful thing to say!” she scolded angrily. “Are these the manners I raised you with? I should think not! Now, you sit down at that table, eat your pancakes, and be nice to the boy who spent the majority of his Saturday morning waiting for you.”

Lily opened her mouth to object, but her mother looked at her warningly, effectively shutting her up. Slumping her shoulders in defeat and humiliation – her mother had just scolded her in front of a boy who already enjoyed teasing her enough as it was – she stomped across the kitchen and flung herself angrily into the chair across from James.

His grin was positively wicked. Bloody bastard, she thought.

Her mother slid a plate of pancakes in front of her, and she hurriedly started eating, if only to distract herself. Because, once she got over the whole anger thing, she mostly just felt really self-conscious for some reason.

Suddenly, Lily was aware of the tired lines in her mother’s face, the wisps that were escaping from her bun, and the way she had obliviously tied her apron on wrong. She was aware of every chip in the butter yellow wallpaper, of every imperfection in their simple wooden table, and of the clutter that covered their refrigerator – mostly old childhood drawings and O.W.L. results. She was aware that her house was small, not perfect or grand or filled with house elves and magical things.

She was aware of all of these things just as she was aware that James Potter’s mother probably did not cook crazy amounts of pancakes in the morning, that James Potter probably did not have a refrigerator covered with memories, and that James Potter probably lived in a spacious and luxurious house that had a kitchen five times the size of hers.

And, suddenly, she was blushing for an entirely different reason than that her pajamas were too small. And, it seemed that just as she was realizing this, her fellow Gryffindor decided to finally say something.

“Sorry for dropping in on you so suddenly, Lily,” he said, but at least he was talking to her and not to her mother. “We ended on such a bad note fifth year –”

Lily froze at his words; her fingers rigidly squeezed her fork till her knuckles turned white. Although the incident had happened weeks ago, it still made her blood run cold to think about it. It was all still so _fresh_ in her mind, like it had just happened yesterday. Severus, his face frozen in that distasteful sneer that she had seen many times before, moving his lips to form those ugly words that she could not stop repeating to herself over and over again.

“I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!”

She was torn between wanting to stab Potter with her fork for bringing it up and wanting to stab herself for getting so upset about a bloody memory.

“ – and I really just wanted a chance to talk to you about it.”

She glanced up at him; he almost sounded sincere, except that she knew him better than that. He was probably here to try and convince her that she should go out with him just so he could publicly humiliate her. Her mother, who had been shamelessly listening while she wrapped up the pancakes and stuck them in the refrigerator, did not seem to understand this hidden motive and instead decided it was time to meddle.

“Of course Lily would love to talk to you!” Mrs. Evans said, apparently under the belief that she understood what her daughter was thinking. She looked at Lily as if daring her to challenge what she said.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Oh, thank you, Mum, I forgot that I couldn’t talk for myself,” she muttered under her breath, but James seemed to hear her anyway, because he was grinning again. She ignored him and said, loudly this time, “Well, I would really love to, but I’m afraid I’ve got a terribly busy schedule today.” She concluded her lie with a bite of delicious pancake.

Her mother sighed and started washing dishes, clearly exhausted by her blatant meddling. James, however, was not going down without a fight. “Oh?” he said, cocking an eyebrow at her. “What are you up to? Maybe I can come with.”

Racking her brain for a good lie, Lily burst out, “Chores! I’ve got to do some chores.” He stared at her incredulously. “You know – clean the kitchen, mow the lawn, the normal stuff.” That was mundane and uninteresting enough that he wouldn’t want to help, right?

Wrong. Before Mrs. Evans could contradict her – chore day was Sunday, not Saturday – James nodded his head and replied, “I’ll help you, then. That is,” he turned his head to acknowledge Lily’s mother, “if it’s okay with you, Mrs. Evans.”

And her mother – Merlin, this was unbelievable – actually opened her mouth and giggled a little, like a teenage girl. She smiled fondly at the strange bloke in her kitchen, “It’s perfectly fine with me. But, please, James, call me Lavender.”

Lily almost choked on her pancakes. Gasping for breath, she picked up the glass of orange juice her mother had placed on the table at one point and chugged it.

Honestly, what was going on in her house? It was like one of those twisted soap operas Petunia loved to watch – any second now, Sirius Black would march through the door and reveal that he was carrying her mother’s baby or some such nonsense. Lily glanced hopefully at the door – at least if that happened she could be certain that this wasn’t really happening – but it remained firmly shut and boring. Sirius Black was apparently too busy to tell his lover that he had gotten a sex change and he was carrying her unborn child.

Mrs. Evans finished off the dishes, and turned to face them. Untying her apron, she slipped on her shoes and grabbed her purse off the counter. “I’m off to town for some groceries. I trust you two to behave yourselves, alright?” she asked sweetly as she made her way to the door. Lily almost died of happiness; with her mother gone she could murder James Potter in peace.

Lily nodded her head impatiently, not really listening. She waited till she couldn’t hear her mother’s car driving down the street anymore before turning to face James. His grin had faded slightly, and he was eyeing her expectantly.

“What,” she hissed, unconsciously leaning towards him, “do you think you’re doing here?”

He seemed unfazed by her anger. He lazily leaned back in the kitchen chair, tilting it onto its back legs as he coolly replied, “Like I told you, I wanted to talk to you about what happened, you never really gave me a chance to apologize – ”

“Bollocks!” she interrupted, and all of a sudden she was standing and the chair was on the floor and she couldn’t stop herself from yelling because he just made her so _angry_ for some reason. “Is this some kind of _joke_ to you, Potter? Did you think it would be funny to come bother me with your pity date invitations and your insults? Is it not enough that you bother me every single day of the school year, now you have to come to my bloody _house_ to do it during summer too? You’ve crossed the line.”

Lily inhaled deeply. It was difficult to be calm around James. He had a knack for infuriating her without even trying; she had probably cussed more around him than she had around everyone else on the planet combined.

He dropped his chair back onto all four legs and stared up at her with a strange look on his face. Lily couldn’t believe it – he looked almost…abashed. Anxiously running his fingers through his chaotic hair, James retorted, “This isn’t a joke! I’m really just here to apologize, Lily.”

And even that statement made her want to start screaming again. She pulled her fallen chair off the floor and tucked it underneath the table as she bit back, “Go on, then, apologize.” Snatching his empty plate from in front of him and slipping it underneath her half-empty one, she unceremoniously dumped them both in the sink.

James thanked her briefly before pausing. His fingers ran through his hair again, before he seemed to realize what he was doing and quickly started fiddling with his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry,” he began – off to a good start, Lily thought viciously. He waited till she had sat down across from him again before continuing.

“I’m _really_ sorry,” he said, raising his nervous hazel eyes to meet hers. “I know you think I’m an ‘arrogant, bullying shoerag’ or whatever but I’m just really _not_ … I mean, I don’t even know what a shoerag _is_ – ”

“Toerag.”

He blinked at her. “Sorry?”

“I didn’t call you an arrogant shoerag, I called you an arrogant _toerag_ ,” Lily said, the corners of her mouth quirking upwards in the beginnings of a smile. A second later, she was frowning again, as a thought occurred to her. “Are you even going to attempt to deny the arrogant bullying part?”

“I don’t hex _everyone_ , you know,” James replied defensively, “just the people who annoy me. And just because I’m better than everyone else doesn’t mean I’m arrogant–”

Lily made a frustrated noise and threw her hands in the air dramatically. “This is exactly what I mean!” she exclaimed irritably. “Are you even _listening_ to what you’re saying? Honestly, have you ever stopped to think that maybe, just _maybe_ , the world doesn’t revolve around James-bloody-Potter?” 

Now he was irritated as well. “Well, of course it doesn’t, I was just saying – ”

“Stop, just stop,” she cut in angrily. “I can’t sit here and listen to you apologize when you’re not even sorry – when you haven’t even realized what you did _wrong_. Come talk to me when you understand that other people matter, that other people have feelings, and the other people are _just_ as bloody important as you are.” She turned her head away from him and determinedly fixed her eyes on a tree visible through the kitchen window.

James did not acknowledge her blatant dismissal of him. His eyes flashing, he leaned closer to her and furiously whispered, “Don’t act like I’m the only bad guy here. You think your best _mate_ is entirely innocent here? You think he was thinking about your  _feelings_ when he called you a–”

“I know what he called me!” Lily cried out suddenly, her green eyes swiveling back to meet his. They were sparkling almost a little too brightly. “It’s not something I’m likely to forget, believe me,” she retorted wearily. His harsh gaze softened slightly as her disconsolate tone, but, almost as though sensing this, she abruptly snapped, “Don’t do that. Don’t pity me like that. I _hate_ pity.”

If it hadn’t been so wholly inappropriate, James would have laughed at that; it seemed so typical to him that, of course, Lily Evans _would_ hate being pitied. He nonetheless couldn’t help but think she deserved it. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it  
must be to be betrayed like that by someone who, for five years and possibly longer, had been your closest companion.

He looked up at the redheaded girl who sat across from him, and studied her carefully through the thin veil of his eyelashes. She had always seemed so strong to him – so brave, so independent, so unbreakable. And yet, here she was, broken.

He just wished he could be the one to pick up the pieces.

“You should go,” Lily said softly, suddenly. Her eyes flickered to meet his again as she lifted herself out of the kitchen chair.

James nodded, rising from his chair without protest. It seemed pointless for him to argue with her, especially when he already knew she wasn’t going to continue their conversation. It didn’t really matter to him, anyway, not anymore. After all, their conversation – however topsy-turvy it was – had been the longest and most enlightening exchange of words in all their years at Hogwarts so far. That was enough for him.

She opened the door for him.

He obligingly stepped outside, glancing back at her as he did so. They didn’t say anything for a moment, just staring at each other resignedly. Just when she was about to close the door, he said, “Hey, you never said – do you accept my apology?”

Lily shrugged her shoulders casually. “We’ll see,” she said, but she was smiling.

 

 


End file.
